The Dresden Files: Soul Master
by The Illuminated Pen
Summary: Harry Dresden has faced many unspeakable horrors before. But now he must face his deadliest opponent yet: himself. In order to save his soul from total corruption, he must first master it by doing the unthinkable - beating down the inner demon inside.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

**Prologue **

**I**'m at the edge. I can feel it.

Lasciel's shadow no longer plagues me. She's dead. Spiritually.

Gone.

But I get the feeling that she was protecting me at the same time from something more dangerous than her. Lately, I've been getting that weird, creepy feeling you get when you know you're being watched. Most likely, I _am_ being watched – but not by the government, as those paranoid conspiracy folks online say. I'm being watched by a manner of butt-ugly monsters, all of them ravenous for a taste of the infamous Harry Dresden. They want to skip appetizers and head straight for the main course, a.k.a. me.

Yummy.

Bob the Skull was saying something to me – probably to wake me up. Normally, I'd use an alarm clock, but being a certified wizard and all, technology and I don't mix well. I can't even use a wind-up alarm clock. The last time I tried to wind one of those up, it exploded in my lap.

Luckily, it missed the most important part of me. Otherwise, I'd probably be stuck talking in a stupid high-pitched voice like they do in the movies when someone kicks a guy in the nuts.

"Hey, Harry! Yoo-hoo – Harry Dresden? You've got a visitor." Bob the Skull was yelling at me. I groaned and heard a knock at the door. I creakily forced myself to a sitting position, grumbled and zombie shuffled toward the heavy door. My wards sensed no danger, and after unlocking it – physically and magically – I opened it to find the unsmiling face of Sergeant Karrin Murphy.

"Murphy? God, what time is it?" I blearily eyed her. Man, I was so freaking tired. The weird thing is, I don't remember doing anything yesterday –

_Free me, free me, FREE ME, _

at all.

I blinked. What was I just thinking? Damn. I needed a vacation more than I originally thought.

Murphy looked up at me with a cautious face, and my adrenaline went into overdrive. I've always trusted her; she and I had been through one too many scraps and battles and wars. We shared scars and fond memories of fighting for our lives against gruesome odds. Calling her a close friend would be a gross understatement. Our relationship was closer than most couples forge in a lifetime.

But that look she was giving me. It was the one she put on for interrogating a witness.

Or a suspect.

My guard went up – and I immediately put it back down. She was a friend. Something had to be up.

"What's up, Murphy?"

"Where were you last night, Harry?" The question was blunt. No beating around the bush with her.

"Here." I gestured at my measly "apartment". "Why?" I tried not to sound defensive about it.

Her lip trembled – and I suddenly noticed that it was cut. Fresh.

A black eye. A bandaged wrist. I probed with my keen magical sixth sense, and found numerous other injuries all over her body. She had been in a big fight last night.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded, "Who did this to you?"

She jerked and threw my hands off. Surprised, I took a step back. Before I knew it, a gun was pointed squarely at my head. It shook slightly, but was otherwise steady. My adrenaline pumped into overdrive, and I found it hard not to reach for the concealed blasting rod in my cotton bathrobe.

Huh? Wait a minute. How had that gotten there –

"I'll ask again", Murphy said in a more calm voice, "where were you last night."

"Murphy, I was here! Bob can cover for me – I was talking to him all last night." He wouldn't stop talking about a not-so-funny story of when a goat met a nymph during mating season. Grisly stuff and he knew the details like the back of his skull.

"Don't lie to me, Harry!" The cut lip burst open again. Red blood began to dribble down her chin.

"Murphy", was all I could say. I was at a loss for words. What the hell was going on?

Heavy stomping began to come toward my doorway, and Michael suddenly materialized next to Murphy. His face could have been made of granite, and his hand rested lightly on his holy sword, _Amoracchius_.

"Harry", he said in a monotone.

More footsteps, and suddenly I found an old U.S. cavalry saber at my throat. The seductively handsome face of my half-brother Thomas stared at me in disbelief. "Harry – what Karrin said was a lie, right? You really didn't do that – right?"

I blinked at the three of them.

"WHAT. ARE. YOU. TALKING. ABOUT." I gritted out. This was not a very good wake-up call to have in the morning. Having your three closest friends and family accuse you of something you don't even know about tends to make a guy angry.

I was beyond angry. I was pissed.

I wanted –

_To smite them, SMITE THEM ALL! They don't understand, power – who needs them, power, I need it, power, GIVE IT TO ME! I NEED MORE POWER. Do it, Harry, it's so easy; you know you want to, reach in, take the blasting rod – burn them all. BURN THEM ALL! We could do it, just let me go, let me go, LET ME GO – _

- to know the truth.

"Harry", Michael started, "we're worried about your condition."

"I'm fine." I said. But something began to nag at the back of my head.

"You've been seen outside your apartment late at night. . ."

. . . I was so tired.

"Doing things." Michael finished lamely.

"Like what?" I retorted. "Look whatever it is, it isn't the worst thing you guys have caught me doing late at night when I'm by myself."

"Well, mainly, talking to yourself." Thomas interjected.

. . . I've been having the feeling that I was being watched.

"Cut to the chase." Murphy said, a hint of iron in her voice. "He needs to know."

Michael shifted uncomfortably, his tall, sturdy frame suddenly awkward and ungainly. "Harry, we followed you last night to a warehouse last night."

"I wasn't at any warehouse last night. I was sitting here in my living room having a conversation with Bob." But even that memory was fuzzy.

"It was vampire warehouse, Harry, for the Red Court. They were collecting humans and harvesting their life energy for a massive attack on you and the White Council. They had enough to feed a medium-sized army." Thomas shuddered. I know what he had to endure in order not to feast with them, even though he was a White Court vampire.

"Okay . . ." I said.

"You attacked them."

"Well, good." I said coldly. The war effort wasn't going so well for us wizards, and we needed every victory we could get.

"You don't remember." It was a statement, not a question.

"No, I don't." I said coolly. But this information was disturbing to me.

"Well you slaughtered them."

"So?"

"All of them. The humans as well."

My blood turned to ice, and my heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"You heard me. You destroyed everything. Nothing survived that night."

A flash of red filled my vision, and maniacal laughter rang in my ears. Very familiar, maniacal laughter.

"And when we tried to stop you. . . you turned on us." Murphy's lip trembled again, oh so slightly. The hurt in her blue eyes was enough to convince me of her truthfulness.

"It took everything we had just to subdue you." Thomas's voice was quiet.

Michael stepped forward. "Harry, we fear for your soul. You are becoming very near to succumbing to your dark side."

"Star Wars", I muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." A sudden, frightening image of a smiling me, filled my vision. It was me – but at the same time, it wasn't. The hair was shorter, combed back and slick. This me had shaved, and there were no puffy tired eyes with huge bags underneath them. His skin was a healthy color, not bruised or burned. He was handsome, powerful, and in control.

Most importantly, he appeared to have been laid recently. The lucky bastard.

My fist clenched and I suddenly began to see red.

The maniacal laughter filled my ears again. Louder and louder.

I sagged to my knees. "What am I going to do?" I whispered.

"Nothing." Michael knelt down with me, motioning at Murphy and Thomas to lower their weapons. "We are going to help you."

"How?"

"By sending you to face your innermost demons."

I've never heard of such a magic. You could see inside a person's soul – I do it all the time. But you can't actually step inside. That's sacred territory. The only time I've actually been inside my own soul, was when I was near death –

My eyes widened.

Michael's voice was hoarse. "Forgive me."

_Amorrachius _ plunged into my chest, straight through the heart. It's glowing blade burned my eyes with its divine light. I suddenly felt no pain. The huge sword sticking into my chest no longer existed. I felt great. The best I've ever felt. My consciousness was floating away . . .

I dimly heard the rest of the conversation before I passed out into the blackness.

Michael's voice, iron-hard. "Karrin. You agreed to do it."

A choking sob. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm doing this." Karrin.

"You must. Otherwise, Harry cannot overcome his demon. He must die, in order to cleanse his soul."

A gun materialized into the white light flooding my eyes. It was ugly, black, and out of place. I felt myself smile at the person holding it.

"I can't watch this." Thomas turned away.

The gun was shaking. "Karrin."

Tears ran down her beautiful face, unchecked. Saddened and alarmed at this, I reached up with my hand and caressed her soft cheek, unaware that I was leaving a streak of blood with each tender stroke.

"Harry, Harry, oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I'm so fcking sorry." I heard a trigger pulled.

Then, the rest was silence.

A voice floated out to me, while I was sinking into the darkness. A very recognizable voice. Mine.

It said, in a cocky, jeering manner, "Hello, _King_."

**TO BE CONTINUED. . .**

I'm a recent reader of the Dresden Files. Awesome books. This is an idea that I've been toying with for a while, and finally got around to writing. See how you like it. Read and review.

- Illuminated Pen


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

He – I was sitting on a simple wooden chair. My hair was considerably shorter, and slicked back. Inner Harry had shaved recently – not sure how considering he's not really real – his face nice and clean, probably smooth as a baby's ass. Not that I know what that feels like. He wore the same exact clothes I did – black knee-length duster, jeans (black too), and a simple button-up shirt (guess what the color was). He, uh, looked pretty damn good.

His elbows were on his knees, and he had his fingers steepled. Inner Harry was examining me with close scrutiny, like a biologist studying some fascinating protozoa under a microscope.

"Hello King" he said in a calm voice.

"S'up asshole." I grinned at him.

Inner Harry tried to smile, but it went horribly wrong and ended up as a mix between a smirk and a grimace. It looked like he was having a stroke. "Come on now, Harry. You know I can't do that banter thing very well."

"Yeah, that, and impersonate my incredibly dashing looks." I stroked my not-shaven face with my right hand. "I mean, looking at you, it's like staring into a backed up toilet."

He chuckled. Smartass.

I grew serious. "What do you want?"

Inner Harry stood up from the wooden chair, which promptly dissolved into the darkness. A spotlight coming from nowhere, cast its beam on him and followed his movements. I realized that there was one on me as well.

"I'm tired, Harry." He produced an apple from nowhere and began to munch on it. This guy was un-freaking-believable.

"Tired of what, exactly?" I retorted sarcastically. "I'm the one doing all the dirty work and getting all the bruises. You just sit back in here and watch."

He suddenly held up his hand. The left one.

Suddenly, that same exact hand was at throat squeezing it for all that it was worth. I was defenseless. He hissed into my face, "You know nothing, Dresden. NOTHING." He let go and shoved me back roughly.

I gasped, wheezing for air.

I was shocked at what I had seen.

His left hand had been burned – like mind had.

"You – gasp – playing – tricks with – gasp – me?" It was meant to come out more intimidating, but my lungs threatened to collapse if I put the effort into it.

"No, Harry. Your stupidity costs me as well. We share the same body after all. But do you know what it's like? Sitting here helpless, while you get torn to ribbons? It's screwed up. It's like being the passenger in the car of a drunk driver!" He threw up his hands in frustration.

"Drunk driver or not, you're back seat driving is no better." I glared at him. "You're rash actions last night got innocent people freaking killed! By my hand!"

"They had willingly turned to their side, Harry. They might as well as had been vampires in the first place."

"We could have saved them goddammit!"

Inner Harry snorted softly. "There you go again. Playing the hero. Emphasis on playing. You see Harry, the reason why you go to such suicidal lengths to do what's right, isn't because you have such a noble and kind heart. No, it's because you're afraid that when you look inside, you see nothing but darkness."

A chill ran down my spine. A long time ago, a vampire had told me something similar. His statement still haunted me in my dreams to this very day. I didn't believe him, but still . . .

I was afraid that he was right. Afraid that the reason I did everything was so that I could mask the undeniable evil in my heart. In my soul. An evil I could not stop from growing as I saw more and more bloodshed with each passing year. It was growing out of control.

I was growing out of control.

And there was nothing I could do about it . . .

An image of Murphy, smiling and angelic sharpened in my mind. Michael, solid as his faith, is laughing. Thomas, snorting at a lame joke I had made. Molly, giggling after a simple spell had literally blown up in my face.

These people believed in me. Counted on me.

This was no time to be playing babysitter to myself. Snap out of it, Harry. You're tougher than that. Don't let this piece of crap get you down.

There was a sudden warm feeling in my hand, and I looked down to see that my staff had materialized in it. Gripping it, I felt the energy trapped within, ready and eager to escape. My blasting rod had appeared too, inside my secret pocket in the duster.

Breathing in deep, I banged the staff down hard on the ground, sparks fizzing out from the bottom for dramatic effect. I entered a combat stance, my staff held diagonally in front of me, and motioned at Inner Harry to make his move.

He smiled, showing pearly white teeth. A staff appeared in his hands as well, and guess what? Yup, you guessed it folks: it was pure black. The smell of burnt wood filled the air, and soon the room crackled with untapped magical energy.

We both stared each other down. Staring contest.

It was a tie.

Then –

"FUEGO!" I snarled. Thick, bellowing orange flames leapt from staff and blasting rod combining into one hot, melting mass that headed straight towards his face. Eyes widening, he shook his wrist until a bracelet fell out.

A shield bracelet. Summoning his will a split second before the flames would have melted his face, a magical barrier was up and running. The hot flame spilled over the shield, causing it to flash and putting it under immense strain.

I poured everything I had into the flame, making it hotter, more intense, more focused. It splattered over the shield like liquid, seeking cracks or faults in it. The energy began to drain from me. Eventually, I had to stop.

The flames receded and vanished into the air, leaving a scalded and thoroughly glassed floor. The shield was untouched. I blinked.

Then – CRACK! A huge crack, like one on a window after it's been struck with a rock, appeared on the shield and began to spread rapidly. There was a breaking sound and the magical shield crumbled to the ground and disappeared. Inner Harry could be seen behind it, holding his wrist and panting heavily. His slicked back hair was matted with sweat, and his skin was pale and sheen with the sweat from the exertion to keeping the shield up from such a forceful attack.

Damn, I'm good.

"What'd you think about that, eh?" I called out to him, cockily.

He grinned again, and said, "Not bad. But I'm tired of playing the horse."

What.

"Come again?" I asked, confused.

He cleared his throat. "What's the difference between a horse and it's master?"

"Uh . . . the horse has four legs, not two?"

He snorted. "No. The horse is USED by the master. One lends his power to the other." Inner Harry's eyes shown with a manic gleam. "One uses the other, Harry! You're the master and I'm the horse! But I'm tired of playing the horse for a master who gets himself hurt constantly! I offer you my power, my knowledge, my instincts – and you refuse. But no more! I will be KING! I refuse to play the horse when you continue to allow yourself to be cut to ribbons at the expense of your foolishness."

He raised his black staff and aimed squarely at me. "I'll show you what true power is, Harry!"

My shield bracelet was at the ready. I summoned up my will and –

Ohmygod.

A huge, indescribable feeling of powerful magic being released filled the air, causing it to crackle with ungodly amounts of energy. The staff smoldered and burned, the runes on it blaring out red light. A wind blew in and swirled around Inner Harry as he uttered one word, very quietly:

"Fuego."

The air suddenly came to a halt.

Fire, equivalent to a the blast of a massive bomb going off suddenly erupted violently from his staff and blasted toward me. It was tremendous – a biblical wall of spiraling blue fire driving itself towards my shield, which abruptly didn't seem so safe any longer.

I summed up my situation with one word.

"Shit."

The immense fire wall slammed into my shield, like a freight train going at full blast into a sheet of glass. My shield, tough as it was, couldn't withstand that kind of brute magical force.

It crumbled and the fires of my personal inner demon washed over me.

My last thoughts before everything turned into blue flame were of Murphy.

Memories flooded into my mind, an unstoppable torrent of emotion –

_Business had been slow lately. I guess that could be taken as a good thing. _

_I stretched my legs, stood up from my overflowing desk, grabbed my staff and began to head out. Time to call it a day. _

_I opened the door to find the surprised face of Sergeant Murphy standing at the door, her fist raised (I instinctively ducked at first) as though she were about to knock on my door. _

_"Ah, Murphy." Thinking that it was another special case SI needed me to look at, I gestured for her to come inside my cramped office. "What is it this time?" _

_She looked at me strangely. "Nothing." _

_I felt an eyebrow raising. "Nothing?" _

_"Yeah, nothing." There was that odd look on her face again. Some indescribable emotion I couldn't discern – it wasn't something she usually felt. _

_"Then, uh, why are you here? I mean, I know you can't go a day without staring at my dashing good looks, but still . . ." Silence. Okay, she was really starting to freak me out. _

_"Karrin?" _

_She stared at me with those blue eyes, that still strange feeling written on her face, and then shook her head. "It's my day off, tomorrow." _

_"Okay . . ." I was feeling clueless here. _

_"Would you – I mean, if you're not doing anything – would like you to go . . .out?" She fumbled with the words. My head felt like it would explode into chunks of gory brain matter. Murphy? Stumbling on her words? Oh, man. The apocalypse must be coming. _

_"Go out? With who?" I asked teasingly. _

_She gulped. Murphy was sweating. Fidgeting. Damn, I wish I could have a camera right now! _

_"With, uh, me." _

_"I'm sorry?" I cupped a hand around my hear, indicating that I hadn't heard her. "What did you say, Sergeant Murphy?" _

_"I want you to go out with me." _

_I spied a person walking down the hallway to my left. "You want to do what with my body? Oh, Karrin, you naughty girl –" I promptly had the wind knocked out of me by a blushing – yes, blushing – Murphy. _

_"Alright", I wheezed. "I'll go." _

_And then she smiled. And it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She freaking glowed at that moment. _

_I remember thinking then, that I'd give anything to see that smile once more . . . _

Burning. Hot.

Smoke.

"Yoo-hoo! Harry! You still alive?"

Someone walked through the thick fog created by the still burning floor. Inner Harry.

He squinted, trying to make out my presumably dead corpse in the dense smoke.

Something moved in front of him. Catching it, he took out his blasting rod, and said, "FUEG-AAAH!"

The reason he said the fueg-aaah, was because at that moment I had shouted out , "VENTAS SERVITAS!" Wind whipped out of my staff, the runes on it casting a silver glowing light. The smoke dissipated rapidly, and my inner self was thrown through the air like a rag doll. He landed several yards away in a crumpling heap.

I strode over to him, taking long easy strides.

When I finally reached him, he asked, "How?"

"How? Simple. I made a promise to someone. Someone very important to me. And if I don't come back soon, she's gonna give me an ass-whooping like never before. So, I can't afford to lose this battle." Smiling slightly, I planted my staff dead on his chest, the runes glowing with a smoldering light that spoke of the maelstrom of energy that was eager to smite Inner Harry into a powdery ash. It wouldn't even take a word. Just a second.

"You ready for round two?" I asked.

He matched my smile, and revealed the handgun in his other hand (magically concealed – the smart bastard, I'll give him props for that), aiming straight for my forehead. "Hell, yeah."

"Good."

Ding, ding.

"Let's rock" we both whispered simultaneously, and the battle continued.

Illuminated Pen here. The idea is really starting to lift off, as you can tell in this chapter. Trust me, it's going to get better. And with summer on the way and school almost over (2 more weeks! YEAH!) you'll be hearing a lot more from me. So enjoy. Read and review.


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